


I Know They Don't Sound the Way I Planned Them to Be

by indevan



Series: Rock Band AU [16]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/M, Fluff, Photo Shoots, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 12:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12557240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: When she was little, she was obsessed with her potential, future wedding.  She had an entire binder full of clippings from magazines of dresses and cakes and floral arrangements.  That binder was still at her father’s house, under her childhood bed.  She had grown so used to her tumultuous relationship with Kakarrot, so used to the thought of never getting married, that now she is wholly unprepared for it





	I Know They Don't Sound the Way I Planned Them to Be

Chi-Chi has never really had friends.  Girls in high school were nice to her but so many said she was “intimidating” or “too much.”  They said they were her friends but so much of what they said seemed to talk her down.  And, regardless, they all ditched her after she got pregnant anyway.  Kakarrot’s friends aren’t really her friends either.  The closest she got to any of them is when she and Vegeta bonded over both being short and constantly elbowed in the head at punk shows.  Hanging out with someone who isn’t related to her or her boyfriend is still new to her.

Bulma is good fun, too, and taking her to this fancy bridal shop to look at dresses.

“They’re all designer _ ,” _ she tells her excitedly on the way.

Chi-Chi could never imagine affording any of those dresses, even  _ with _ Kakarrot’s advance from the record company.  Bulma says she’ll pay, though, and money seems to be nothing to her.  She hasn’t brought it up but  _ everyone _ knows the Briefs family.  Chi-Chi still isn’t sure what they  _ do _ but it certainly makes them a lot of money.  She claims she’s independent but also not above using her family’s money for pleasure.  In this case, Chi-Chi’s grateful.  Weddings, she’s learned, are very expensive.

“Even if you don’t get your dress today, it’ll still be fun wearing dresses that cost thousands of dollars,” she says.

Bulma opens the door to the small boutique.  There’s shades of white and ivory everywhere and soft, classical music is playing from wall-mounted speakers.

“This is the kind of place that gives you champagne, too,” she tells her.

Chi-Chi looks around at the fine lace and silk surrounding them and feels very out of place, all of a sudden, in her t-shirt and shorts.  To make matters worse, she had elected to wear one of Kakarrot’s shirts and now she’s standing in a fancy, expensive bridal boutique wearing a shirt that says “Death Grips” with the cast of Seinfeld on it.  Bulma is similarly dressed but she has this  _ air _ to her that makes everything seem both deliberate and effortless.  Chi-Chi thinks she just looks like a tired mother of two.

“Hello, ladies.”

A woman appears before them as if by magic.  She stands with whip straight posture and sports a head of short, curly hair.

“Hi,” Bulma says. “I have an appointment under the name Briefs?”

_ Appointment? _

She and Bulma hadn’t even had plans today until she found out their boyfriends were occupied with a meeting at the record company followed by a photoshoot and interview for some music magazine.  Bulma was able to get in on such short notice?

“Of course, darling.  For your friend?  Come, come.”

She motions for them with a flick of her wrist and Chi-Chi trails after them both.

“I’m Ranfan,” she says with a smile. “I’ll be your consultant today.”

Chi-Chi nods, unaware that she  _ needed _ a consultant to buy a dress.  When Kakarrot took her to prom their senior year, she just got a dress from the department store.

“Okay.  Uh, I’m Chi-Chi.”

“Excellent, darling.  May I see the ring?”

She holds her hand out and Ranfan raises her eyebrows in what she assumes is approval.  Ranfan takes them to the back of the store where a little sitting area is set up.  There are two white chairs upholstered with buttery yellow fabric.

“Sit, sit,” she tells them. “And tell me everything.”

“About what?” she asks before she can stop herself.

Bulma cracks up next to her, sinking into the offered chair.  Chi-Chi feels her face heat up in embarrassment but Ranfan doesn’t seem bothered.

“A little bit about what you’re looking for, when the wedding is, your fiancé--that sort of thing.”

_ Oh. _

Chi-Chi bites her lip.

“I’m not...sure what I want exactly,” she admits.

She’s looked at bridal magazines, sure, but she hasn’t thought too deeply on what she wants to wear.  She has no one to help her, either.  Her own mother’s passed and Gine’s wedding was just a court date after she and Bardock turned eighteen.  Ranfan smiles and pats her shoulder.

Feeling like a child, Chi-Chi smiles tersely.

“Don’t worry, darling, that’s why I’m here.  Now, tell me about your fiancé.”

What  _ can _ she say?  Her entire history with Kakarrot is gnarled and skewed and...complicated.  They’re good now, stable and happy and  _ getting married, _ but how can she explain it without  _ explaining it? _

“Um.  His name is Kakarrot,” she says, “and he’s a musician.”

“Oh?  Like, professionally?”

Bulma snorts a laugh from her seat. “You could say that.”

Chi-Chi shoots her a glare and then turns back to Ranfan.

“Yes.  He’s a professional musician.  He’s actually, uh, at a meeting today at his record label.”

She isn’t sure why she said it but she can’t think of anything else.  Hastily, she digs her phone out of her purse and pulls up a picture of them both.

“This is him.”

Ranfan stares at the image for a moment before her mouth falls slack.

“Wait...Kakarrot as in...Kakarrot Son?”

Chi-Chi lowers her phone and furrows her brow.

“Yes?”

“Kakarrot Son as in the Kakarrot Son from Apetail?”

She looks to Bulma who looks just as surprised as she is.  Ranfan  _ knows _ about his band?  She’s able to identify him by a picture?

“Uh, yeah.  I mean.” She shakes her head, mentally scrambling for her usual confidence. “Yes.  He’s the guitarist from Apetail.”

She can see Ranfan struggling between freaking out and maintaining her air of being professional.

“I mean, not for nothing, but my boyfriend is also the guitarist from Apetail,” Bulma pipes up. “The other one.  We aren’t...dating the same guy.  It isn’t that kind of arrangement.”

Chi-Chi sends her a pointed look to let her know that she’s  _ not helping, _ which the other woman fields with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, are you also engaged?”

Bulma’s smile falls from her face and she pales. She shakes her head vigorously, wiggling her empty ring finger. “Nope.  And not planning on it, either.”

Ranfan’s eyebrows go up.

“Really?  Is it--”

Bulma holds her hand up.

“We’re here for Chi-Chi, who is getting married.  So let’s get some dresses out?  Yes?”

It still astounds her how easily Bulma can take control of a situation.  Not just situations, either.  She’s never seen anyone handle Vegeta so well and she’s known him since they were both in high school.

Ranfan nods, back to being professional, and leaves.  Chi-Chi sinks into the chair next to Bulma and rubs the back of her neck.

“God,” she says with a sigh.

“It’s weird,” Bulma opines. “People, like, recognize them.  Our boys, I mean.”

Chi-Chi nods. “Yeah.  Really weird.”

She can hear Ranfan moving through the small boutique accompanied by the rustling of silk and satin.  She tugs on the hem of her t-shirt and glances at the other woman.

“So, did you mean it?” she asks, “about you not getting married.”

Bulma nods.

“Oh, yeah.  We’ve actually talked about it.” She must see Chi-Chi’s skeptical look because she laughs. “No, really.  Vegeta’s gotten much better about talking about shit.  We both decided that we’re happy with what we have now and neither of us particularly  _ want _ to get married.”

Chi-Chi doesn’t follow.  When she was little, she was obsessed with her potential, future wedding.  She had an entire binder full of clippings from magazines of dresses and cakes and floral arrangements.  That binder was still at her father’s house, under her childhood bed.  She had grown so used to her tumultuous relationship with Kakarrot, so used to the thought of never getting married, that now she is wholly unprepared for it.  Despite it all, though, she still  _ wanted _ to get married.

“What do you mean?”

Bulma shrugs.

“We just don’t want to.  That’s all.”

Chi-Chi still didn’t get it but it isn’t her place to question it.  It’s not like she and Kakarrot are the poster children for conventionality.  They’re getting married now, yes, but that’s after nearly ten years and two children.

Ranfan returns with a rolling rack of dresses.  They look delicately made with beading and lace and Chi-Chi feels even more like a slob.  She isn’t meant to wear dresses this nice.

“So, I grabbed a few different styles to get a feel for what you like.”

She nods.  It’s just as well.  Her wedding binder dresses are all outdated and out of style since she hasn’t updated it since she was thirteen.

The first dress has a sweetheart neckline and a fitted bodice that flows into a full skirt.

“No,” she says resolutely. “I don’t want something that brings attention to the fact that I have no boobs.”

Bulma’s at her side, face scrunched in confusion. “Why is that?  You have two kids.  My tits got huge after I had Trunks.”

Chi-Chi chooses to ignore her and steps down from the raised platform to try on another dress.  Ranfan helps her into the next one, which features a Queen Ann neckline she immediately detests.  It’s pretty but it doesn’t suit her.

“No,” she says before it’s even zipped up fully.

Ranfan pulls the zipper down and nods. “Of course.”

The third dress makes Chi-Chi think of  _ Pride and Prejudice _ and she immediately loves it.  It’s white chiffon and lace with an empire waist and cap sleeves.  The moment she’s zipped into it, she  _ feels _ something.  She steps out from behind the curtain and Bulma’s face lights up.

“Oh,” she says. “That one’s nice.”

A look in the mirror shows her that it’s more than nice.  Ranfan has clipped it in the back for fit but, even so, Chi-Chi feels like this dress was made for her.  She stands on the platform and smooths her hands over the luxurious material.

“Holy shit,” Bulma says. “You need to get it.  Say yes to the dress, Chi-Chi!  Do it!”

She bats at her. “I’m not going to do that but--I do think that this is the dress.”

Bulma cheers and Ranfan looks relieved.

“Don’t look at the price tag,” she tells her. “Remember, it’s my treat.”

She knows that she shouldn’t just let Bulma buy her things but the rational part of her knows weddings are expensive.  The rest of planning is kind of...intimidating.

She changes back into her own clothes while Bulma sets things up with Ranfan for her.

“Where to next?” she asks once they’re out of the boutique. “The boys are still occupied for the next few hours and Caulifla’s watching Trunks until...whenever I get back.”

Chi-Chi contemplates it for a second.

“Lunch?”

\--

King Kai seems happy.  He’s smiling and rubbing his hands together and Kakarrot gathers that nothing particularly  _ good _ is going to happen.  Whenever he’s smiling, it’s usually to stop himself from screaming at them straight away.

“What did we do?” Turles asks.

King Kai waves his hand. “No, no.  This is good news.  As you boys know, your newest single dropped two hours ago and sales are phenomenal.  You’ll never guess how many digital downloads there have been so far.”

“Fifteen million!” Kakarrot exclaims.  He jumps up from his seat and slams his hands on the table.

King Kai’s smile falters and he sighs. “No, Kakarrot.  It’s been two  _ hours. _  Guess again.”

He screws his mouth to the side and sinks back into his chair.  He really would rather not play this guessing game.  The sooner this meeting is over means the sooner he and Vegeta have to go to their cover shoot for some music magazine they had interviewed with a couple days ago.  And the sooner  _ that’s _ over means the sooner he can go home.  It had been their first interview with their new press agent, Whis.  He made a complete rider of what interviewers can and cannot bring up and coached him and Vegeta to be off the cuff without looking like idiots.  Whis himself is cool, too, he thinks.  He’s married to some big shot producer and they’re some sort of ridiculous power couple.

“Five thousand?” Raditz asks.

“Higher.”

King Kai looks smug.  He’s leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed.

“Six thousand?” Broly tries.

“Higher.”

“Eight thousand?”

King Kai leans forward and places his hand palm down on the table.

“Nine thousand, one hundred and sixty-eight.”

A quiet falls over them.  Kakarrot looks at the others.  That high in  _ two hours? _

“Over nine thousand?” Vegeta asks, incredulous. “Seriously?”

King Kai nods. “Yep.  Bask in it, boys.  This is the big time.”

Kakarrot tunes out after that, like he does at most meetings, and then he’s shoved in an Uber along with Vegeta to go to the photoshoot.

“Couldn’t they do them both on the same day?” he asks.

“How the fuck should I know?”

When they arrive at the shoot location, Jaco is already on them.

“There you two are!  Come on.  Everyone’s waiting.”

Jaco is always under the impression that they’re very late to something and acts accordingly.  Kakarrot honestly suspects that he  _ also _ knows that he’s bad at his job as King Kai’s assistant and overacts to make up for it.

“Go to hair and makeup--now.”

A long hallway opens into a large warehouse set up with lights and foils.  Kakarrot lets his mind blank out as he deals with stripping his shirt off and getting makeup rubbed on his torso.

“Careful,” he says. “The stars around my belly button are new.”

The makeup artist nods and only lightly dusts the four, red stars that circle his navel.  In a bout of boredom, he and Vegeta had gone out to get tattoos a couple weeks ago.  While he got stars, his best friend got a much more detailed, better executed crown between his crotch and navel.

“So, about your hair,” a new person says.  He figures that it has to be a hair stylist.

Kakarrot laughs. “Good luck.  Right, Geta?”

He nods from his own chair. “Yeah.  It’s hopeless.  This is just what it does.”

Kakarrot lets his mind go blank again because sometimes that’s the only way he can deal with too much happening at once.  He hears snatches of questions aimed at one or both of them but he tries to tune them out.

“--work out?  You’re both so nicely built.”

“No.”

He’s glad Vegeta’s here to answer in his usual way.  He isn’t sure what he would do.  Finally, this part of the ordeal is over and they’re shoved in front of the camera.  Jaco is stationed next to a good-looking man with long, loosely braided green hair.  Vegeta’s eyes widen at the sight of him and Kakarrot wonders if he knows him.

“This is your photographer today,” Jaco says. “He’s very highly regarded for his editorial work so  _ understand _ how important this is.  This is--”

“Zarbon?!”

The man--Zarbon?--lowers the camera and smiles in a way that isn’t wholly nice.  The name sounds familiar but Kakarrot can’t quite place it.  He hooks his thumbs in the loops of his jeans and glances from Vegeta to the photographer.

“Y-you know him?” Jaco asks warily.

Zarbon’s smile looks more like he’s baring his teeth. “We go way back.  Don’t we?”

Kakarrot’s certain that he didn’t go to their high school.  Who is he?  Next to him, Vegeta has apparently recovered from the initial shock and is now smirking.

“I see your nose healed up fine.”

_ Oh. _

_ That’s _ where he knows the name.  Jaco looks nervous as well.  He obviously doesn’t know that Vegeta got thrown out of his fancy, private school for breaking a kid’s nose with a lunch tray, but he’s very obviously filling in the blanks in  _ some way. _

“Oh, yes.  The doctor fixed my deviated septum as well.  So, honestly, I have to thank you.”

Vegeta’s smirk morphs into a wicked smile and even Kakarrot’s worried, now.  He  _ knows _ what it means when he adopts that look and he’s  _ pretty sure _ they should at least pretend to be professional towards the guy hired to take photos of them.

“Maybe next time you make fun of a kid for their mom being dead, you’ll be able to get--”

“LET’S GET STARTED!”

Jaco claps his hands just as loudly as his screamed words and whips his head around, grinning far too broadly.  Zarbon makes a sweeping gesture with his hand and smiles.

“Of course.  And, for what it’s worth, in the decade since then, I  _ have _ matured.” Zarbon adjusts his camera strap and looks at them both. “And even if I  _ were _ still angry--I’m a professional.  I’m being paid to make you look good, after all.”

Things seem to settle after that and Zarbon directs them through their shoot.  He’s right about one thing, at least--he’s a professional.  He still feels a bit foolish to not be wearing a shirt since the warehouse is more than a little bit cold, but it isn’t  _ bad. _

“Face forward--yes.  Tug your waistband down and, Kakarrot, lean on his shoulder--no, not like that.  Turn to the side and arch your back.  Good.  Good.  Tilt your face towards the--yes.  Perfect.”

They have solo pictures after that for what feels like one hundred frames where Kakarrot has to pose with a guitar that isn’t even his.  Halfway through, he gets bored and flops on his back.  He kicks his legs high up in the air and holds it there.

“Keep doing things like that,” Zarbon tells him. “That’s amazing.”

_ Oh, sure. _

When he’s done, he watches Vegeta go through his own pictures that mostly involve posing moodily with a guitar and smoking while wearing aviator sunglasses.  Finally, Zarbon announces that he thinks he has it and they’re set free.

“That was so weird,” Kakarrot says with a shake of his head.

Vegeta lights up a cigarette and nods.  Outside, night has fallen and his skin prickles.  It’s starting to get colder at night.

“I guess it’s something we have to get used to,” he says and his words are accompanied by a stream of smoke.

He knows that’s the case but the feeling of weirdness remains.  He just wants to get back home to Chi-Chi and the boys.  Between the  _ professional _ photoshoot and learning about the sales of their single, he wants to return to a feeling of normalcy.

\--

Chi-Chi is loading the dishwasher when the door opens.

“Daddy!”

Gohan vaults over the back of the couch and rushes to the entrance.  Sighing, she sticks her head out over the counter.

“Sweetie, what did mommy say about doing that?”

Goten kicks his legs in his swing, torn between his earlier tantrum and clear excitement at the return of his father.

Kakarrot bends down to scoop Gohan up to spin him around.

“He just had dinner,” she informs him with a weary sigh.

Surprisingly, he listens and stops spinning their son.  Still carrying him, he walks towards the kitchen.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge for you.”

“Cool, cool.” He smiles and leans in to kiss her.

“How was the shoot?”

Kakarrot makes a face and she has to laugh.  It’s nice that apparently rock stardom hasn’t changed him.  He’s still the goofy boy she fell in love with.

“Where’s Goten?”

Chi-Chi points to the occupied swing.

“He’s mad.”

Gohan nods seriously. “He cried the whole way home from grandma and grandpa’s.”

Kakarrot places their eldest down and walks into the living room to squat by the infant.

“What happened, baby?”

Chi-Chi watches him with a smile.  Drying her hands on the dishrag, she comes around the counter to walk into the living room.

“Raditz was over.”

“Ah.”

When his uncle is in the room, Goten has eyes only for him.  He won’t let anyone else feed him, change his diaper, or even hold him.  It’s cute, most of the time, but sometimes it’s a nuisance.

“He did not want to leave.”

Kakarrot tickles Goten’s belly and, despite the sour look still on his face, he giggles.

“He was being a rude baby,” Gohan informs them soberly.

“Were you?”

Kakarrot undoes the buckles and lifts their youngest in the air.  Goten giggles again and nuzzles against his chest.  Chi-Chi smiles.

“How was your day?” he asks her.

“Oh, good.  I got my wedding dress.”

Kakarrot’s face lights up and--sometimes she forgets just how attractive he is.  She’s so used to his face, his body, and then he’ll smile or do something and it’ll almost take her breath away.

“Yeah?  Can I see it?”

She smacks him playfully. “No.  And, besides, it’s not even here.  I have to go back for a fitting.”

He looks disappointed and she notices for the first time that he’s wearing eyeliner.  It draws attention to his deep, dark eyes and Chi-Chi can’t help but stare.  She shakes her head.  Whatever they do tonight will have to wait until the boys are in bed.  Kakarrot turns and rubs his nose affectionately in her hair.

“I’m so glad to be home,” he says. “I’m exhausted and feel all.  Y’know.”

She puts her arm around him and Gohan wiggles between them.  Kakarrot’s career is skyrocketing and there’s a wedding to plan and apparently random strangers now recognize him but--they still have this.

**Author's Note:**

> http://vertigoats.tumblr.com


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